The Difference Between a Weasley and a Malfoy
by Nike Athena
Summary: Pointing out a few crucial and obscure (not mentioned) diffrences in the Weasley family and the Malfoy family
1. Default Chapter

The Difference between a Weasley and a Malfoy Difference #1: Children and Child-Care  
  
Arthur Weasley swung his Ministry robe on while stomping into his shoes. From downstairs, the wail of a freshly awoken Virginia Weasley assaulted his ears; barely home from the hospital and she had the wail of a banshee. Feeling immensely proud he walked down the rickety stairs that led to the kitchen, brushing his hair, and was assaulted by one of his seven children, an eldest son on the landing looking frantic, no robe on, only wearing his skivvies. "Dad!" Percy panted, pale face flushed. "Have you seen any of my robes on the staircase when you came down?" Arthur looked at his child, puzzled. "No. Why?" He asked, and was awnsered by his eight-year-old identical twin sons' cackling. Arthur stifled a smile and called out to them. "Fred! George!" And waited until the boys' faces appeared, the perfect epitome of innocence. "Where are Percy's robes? He needs at least one, and I know that you two squirreled them away." A groggy, slurred voice interrupted him. "Da. Saw Percy's robes 'pstairsh. Fred 'n George had 'em." Arthur turned to see his second-youngest child, being only two years old, Ron. Arthur nodded to his son and gave him a smile. "Come on, Ron. Going downstairs to get breakfast?" At the little boy's nod, Arthur picked him up and carried the two-year-old downstairs and away from his older brothers' murderous stares. In the kitchen, his wife, Molly, was feeding their newborn, sitting at the heavily scrubbed wooden table; Arthur put down Ron and gave Molly a kiss. His eldest son, Bill, was making breakfast, using magic to assist him. His second eldest son, Charlie, entered through the kitchen door, stomping mud from his boots and saying, "Well, I got those bloody chickens to calm down at least. The pigs weren't helping, mind you, but I got them to calm down as well. Just seems they wanted an early breakfast, so I gave them it. Meaning breakfast. Excuse my language." Bill smiled and covered up for his brothers' language. "You're just in time, it seems. Breakfast's finished. BOYS!" He hollered to his younger siblings not in the kitchen. "Breakfast's ready; get it while it's hot!"  
  
* * * Narcissa Malfoy woke a scant instant before her infant child screeched. She blinked sleep out of her eyes, then looked at the man in the bed beside her. Lucius Malfoy twisted over slowly onto his front and looked at her with half-lidded eyes. "Go shut him up." The man rasped. "I've still got an hour before I have to go to work so I want sleep." Narcissa stared at him blearily, then turned over, her back to him and awnsered. "You can do it this time. I've been up all night getting him to sleep." She looked over at his sudden movement. Lucius had risen up his upper body by his arms while leaving his legs unmoved on the bed; he spared an arm to grab something on his bedside table, then collapsed back, face half buried into his pillow. He had his forearm up over his head and was waving something long, slim and ebony coloured; not threateningly, or, rather, not at her. It was his wand. He had done many horrible things with that wand, not to mention murder, torture, and countless other things. "Are you sure you want me to shut him up?" He whispered from his pillow and the flesh of his arm. Narcissa sat up in bed, eyes tearing slightly, but too tiered to say anything, and went to rock her baby back to sleep. From the large, four-poster bed there was a sleepy response; Narcissa heard it before walking into the adjoining room. "That's what I thought." And Narcissa heard the clatter of well- polished wood on well-polished wood. The form on the bed shifted again, putting their back to her. Damn it. He'd scared her into doing something again. He rarely ever did that, only when he was extremely tiered and very cranky. The baby quieted when he saw his mother. Everything would be all right. Mother was here. Narcissa picked up the child with the unholy screech, now two, but much smaller then was wont for a two- year-old, and frequently in ill health. "What's wrong, sweets?" She murmured to him. "Are you hungry?" At the little boy's affirmative gurgle she walked back into her room, with him snuggling into her nightgown, looking up at her with glossy grey eyes. "The brat is not sleeping in here." Lucius informed her from the bed, voice even fainter than before. A prodigious yawn came from the bed, like a yawn from some large animal, probably a lion. "And if he needs to be fed his food is in the cabinet in the kitchen above the sink. Now stop thundering around and let me get my sleep." Narcissa walked from the bedroom closing the door softly behind her. (These characters do not and will never belong to me. Neither does the Harry Potter world. Don't sue me: You'll get NOTHING) Please read and review; flames as well as CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is accepted. 


	2. Differences Two: Discipline

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's books do not belong to me, nor do any of their myriad characters.  
  
The Difference Between a Weasley and a Malfoy Difference # 2: Discipline of Children  
  
Arthur Weasley looked down at his second youngest child, Ron and gave a beleaguered sigh. He reached up to massage his forehead, closing his eyes and muttering softly to himself. "Ronald Weasley." Arthur said in his interrogating-suspects-and-potential-criminals voice. "Are you aware of the magnitude of the problem you just created? I know you weren't aware of the consequences that could result, so I'll be lenient for that fact. I won't punish you, but you must promise me this will never happen again." He looked down with his tiered brown eyes at his seated, slumped child for an awnser. Ron looked up at his father, face shining with hope.  
"Really?" He asked, then nodded vigorously. " Yeah, Dad! It'll never happen again. I promise!" He said this with a smile on his face and Mr. Weasley's face finally softened and his own face broke out into a smile.  
"Go on." Arthur said, motioning with his head at the door. Ron shot up from his seat and headed quickly to the door, lanky body disappearing through it within ten seconds. Mr. Weasley shook his head fondly, though a line appeared between his brows. It was a long day already and he hadn't even gotten to work yet.  
* * *  
  
Lucius Malfoy looked across the opulent dark expanse of his study desk and leaned back in his throne-like leather chair. Don't be too angry with the boy; it wasn't exactly his fault that the house-elf had been released. As long as he didn't break in to weakness and.  
"I'm sorry, Father." Were the first things out of the boys' mouth. Lucius' temper, which had been reigned on a short, fraying leash, snapped its hold like a rabid dog. Lucius erupted from the chair, eyes blazing with an unholy fire. "You're sorry?!" He hissed, head rearing back like a snake's ready to strike. Lucius was around his desk and in front of his son so fast one might have missed the movement and said he'd Apperated. "You're sorry?" He repeated, seizing his son by the back of his neck. "You lost us one of our servants and that all you can say? That you're sorry?" Lucius stepped back from his son, forcing some distance between them, breathing heavily from flared nostrils. Draco staggered back from his father, clutching the back of his neck. When he opened his mouth to say something, Lucius cut him off. "Get out of my sight. Come back to me when you can say something more valuable than the pathetic apologies you've been giving to me. Leave. Now." He hissed, not softening his face to his frightened son, not sparing him his scathing glare. Draco did the most sensible thing when confronted with a man this dangerous, even if it was his father. He ran. * * * Well, I know it was short, but next time it will be longer. Please read and review- I can't improve this story if you don't review. 


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